I Stole The Duke - Chapter 146
— Don’t mourn the dead. Focus only on the Duke. React to him and him alone.
Zaal barked commands to keep his men pressing in on Michalis.
“Puelini level… no—higher.”
Michalis deflected Zaal’s spear and took a step back. The hardened calluses on his hands throbbed from the impact. This man wasn’t just any warrior—he was a fighter Kantoor had trained and dispatched deliberately.
“If I don’t use my full strength, this is going to get bad.”
When your life is on the line, there’s no room for pride. These warriors couldn’t be fought off with just a dagger. Michalis drew a long breath and visualized the weapon he favored most. From his short blade, a radiant white aura flared and extended into a full-length sword—one meter in length.
— Aura Blade!
— A Swordmaster…!
The Kantoor warriors surrounding him hesitated for a moment, startled.
— So that’s where his confidence came from.
But Zaal’s gaze only deepened, his expression unreadable.
“Damn it…”
Michalis cursed instinctively. The tip of Zaal’s spear was glowing white—just like his blade.
It wasn’t that Kantoor hadn’t had a Sword master for seventy years—they’d simply kept it secret.
— I told you, didn’t I? Overconfidence can be fatal.
Now, an undisclosed Swordmaster from Kantoor faced off against the Empire’s one and only.
— I’ll handle the Duke. The rest of you—get to the stairs!
— Yes, brother!
“……”
Things were getting worse. Michalis wasn’t afraid of losing—but this wouldn’t end quickly.
— It’s only three knights. Break through and go!
With the exception of their leader, the Kantoor warriors swarmed toward the stairs.
“Roswell! Roanes! Switch places!”
Cedric, guarding the center of the stairs, quickly repositioned the wounded Speaker to the rear.
“Yes!”
“My lady is up there!”
The three knights grit their teeth. No matter what, they had to hold the line.
The sound of weapons clashing was so loud it rang through the walls, impossible to ignore.
“What… what is happening down there?”
“I snuck a quick look… Kantoor warriors have filled the first floor.”
The savage desert fighters looked as though they’d break through the stairs any moment. The staff of Restaurant Mykonos were paralyzed with fear.
“……”
Even with Michalis down there, things weren’t calming down. The longer he was gone, the more anxious Eliana became.
“Just staying put won’t help anything.”
She couldn’t just sit and tremble, waiting for her husband to fix everything.
“I’ll go check the situation.”
Eliana rose, determined.
“That’s dangerous, my lady!”
“Stand aside. I’ll only look from a distance.”
She brushed past the worried staff and moved toward the staircase.
“Gasp!”
But after descending only a few steps, Eliana froze. Her hands flew up, stifling a scream.
“Hold it in—don’t scream. You’ll only make it harder for them.”
From behind, she could see the backs of the three bloodied knights being pushed hard by Kantoor warriors. A body lay sprawled at their feet.
“Michal—”
Michalis was locked in a one-on-one duel in the center of the first floor. A body lay near him too, its throat slashed open. Blood—whose, she couldn’t tell—was spattered across his face. Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
— That woman is the Duchess!
— Capture her and it’s over!
The Kantoor warriors spotted her at the top of the stairs and shouted.
“Stop them!”
Cedric’s roar shook the staircase.
“If they see me, it’ll only make things worse!”
Eliana turned and bolted back up to the second floor.
“Get a grip, Eliana! Do something. Anything you can!”
She clenched her fists and shook her head hard, trying to clear it.
“Think. You have to think.”
Her whole body trembled. Her heart beat too fast. Thoughts kept slipping away.
“What’s the real problem? What do they need the most…?”
Standing in the middle of the second-floor hall, she shut her eyes tightly and forced her mind to focus.
“The problem is… being outnumbered. Then what we need is reinforcements. We need more knights.”
Suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do.
“Does this restaurant have any low-grade mana stones?”
She turned to the nearest staff member and asked urgently.
“Yes! If we dismantle one of the magic lanterns, we can get one.”
“Good. Please bring it. And Head Chef—do you have paper and a pen?”
“Yes, my lady!”
The two immediately rushed off to follow her orders.
“And the rest of you—boil some water. Start sterilizing cloths. If we have anything that could be used as bandages, bring those too.”
They’d need clean supplies for the wounded—lots of them.
“Yes, my lady!”
Thanks to Eliana, the second floor of the restaurant began to stir with purpose and motion.
“Here’s the mana stone, my lady.”
“And paper and pen, as requested.”
“Everyone, wait in the kitchen!”
Eliana urged the shaken staff into the kitchen, then sat at an empty table and summoned her system.
‘Dream, show me page 11 of the spellbook Blackrock.’
[Search complete.]
She’d already memorized the spell—it was the most basic one in Blackrock. What she needed now was something simple and fast. As she picked up the pen and began drawing on the notepad, her trembling stilled. Even the clashing of weapons felt far away—her focus sharpened to a fine point at her fingertips.
“…There.”
The magic circle was simple—two minutes was all it took to draw.
‘Dream, show me the Southern Imperial Navy’s signal protocols.’
[Search complete.]
Eliana scanned the list with tense eyes, forcing herself to stay calm.
‘Please be here… Flag signals, horns, cannon codes… There! Dream, isolate light-based signals only.’
[Search complete.]
She found what she was looking for.
“Someone bring me a bucket—quick!”
“Right away!”
One of the staff members who had been pacing anxiously handed her a heavy wooden pail.
“Haa… haa…”
Eliana bolted up the stairs to the rooftop, holding the bucket tightly. There was no time to catch her breath. She placed the mana stone on the notepad and activated the spell.
“Imperial Light.”
A glowing orb, the size of two fists, floated into the air at chest height.
“Ah—!”
The sudden brightness stung her eyes, a sharp pain shooting to her temples.
‘Dream, show only the emergency signal pattern.’
[Search complete.]
‘Ugh, this bucket is so heavy…’
There was no time to complain. Without a second thought, Eliana raised the bucket and began signaling.
‘Short-short. Short-short-short. Short-short. Short-short-three… Is this right?’
With steady rhythm, she covered and uncovered the light. She squinted at the popup showing the signal pattern and followed it carefully.
‘Please, someone… anyone… see this and come!’
At this brightness, someone on the outer wall—on sentry duty—had to notice it.
“Kgh!”
“Sir Cedric!”
A red blot spread across Cedric’s white trousers like a camellia in bloom.
“It’s just a cut.”
But it wasn’t shallow. The blood was seeping too fast.
“Switch with me!”
“I’m still holding. You conserve your strength—it’ll help more.”
The battle on the staircase was getting desperate.
— Samir, worn out? Switch positions.
— I can keep going.
— That bull over there is slowing too.
— Don’t let your guard down. He’s no ordinary fighter. One mistake, and you’ll be dead.
Seventeen against three. The longer it went on, the worse it would get. The narrow staircase allowed the knights to hold this long—but barely.
“Roanes! Stay sharp! We can’t give up any more ground!”
“Yes, sir!”
They were now nearly at the top of the stairs.
“Remember who’s behind you.”
If they lost the staircase, the second floor would fall. The lady would be trapped—and it would all be over.
“My lady is up there!”
Thinking of the one they had to protect with their lives, the knights tightened their grips and found new strength.
— We’re almost at the second floor. Push harder!
— Why won’t you damn imperials die already?!
The Kantoor warriors cursed the sea voyage that had left them in poor shape. They thought the knights would be easy prey on land. But these imperials were stubborn to the end.
— They’re the elite Blue Knights of the Empire. Don’t blame yourselves. Just wear them down—drain their strength slowly.
And it was working. The knights were a mess—wounded, bleeding, exhausted.
— They’re slowing. Focus and press in!
— Sharif, take over.
— Yes, sir!
The Kantoor warriors rotated in fresh fighters, tightening their siege. With two already lost to the Duke, they couldn’t afford more casualties. The three knights had to go down.
“Argh!”
One warrior vaulted up the stairs and thrust his spear with full force. It was the kind of blow that couldn’t be blocked head-on. Roanes twisted his body to avoid it, but the blade slashed deep into his arm—blood streamed freely. The injury was brutal.
“Damn it—switch!”
Speaker shouted, taking his place. But he too was barely holding on.
‘I have to bring this guy down and reinforce the stairs—fast.’
Michalis felt the tension in every nerve. He hadn’t expected to meet someone this strong—even as a Swordmaster.
— Duke, still have time to worry about your men?
Zaal’s spear scraped Michalis’s coat with a lightning-quick flick.
‘I can’t lose this fight.’
Michalis centered himself. First, he had to defeat the man in front of him.
Clang!
Their glowing weapons met again—
“Fire.”
Bang! Bang!
The sound of gunfire thundered through the hall. Two Kantoor warriors stationed at the base of the stairs fell instantly, shot clean through the heart—no time to scream.
“……”
Everything stopped for a second. Silence hung in the air.
“Commander!”
Cedric’s eyes widened. The faint scent of gunpowder in the air had never been more welcome.
“First line, fall back. Second line, advance.”
There was no time for greetings. Puelini’s orders came quickly, crisp and commanding. Four knights of the Blue Order, in pristine white uniforms, moved forward with muskets in hand, obeying him without hesitation.
“Your Grace, are you hurt? We came as soon as we saw the emergency signal.”
The greeting came from Alejandro, Puelini’s second-in-command.
Click. Clack. Tap. Tap.
The first row retreated to reload while the second line prepared to fire. Powder poured, bullets slid into barrels, ramrods clicked in practiced rhythm.
Now it was sixteen against ten.
And the battle had just turned.
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